Forged: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (20 page)

“Happiness is having a large, loving, caring,

close-knit family…in another city.”

-
        
Rotten eCard

Tobias has been different since the night I found him alone in the dark reading Finley’s diary. Not in a bad way, quite the opposite actually. These last few weeks are the first time ever that I’ve seen him look genuinely happy, for more than an hour or so at a time that is. I mean sure, the girls and I have always made him smile and laugh, so have his brothers, but this, this is a different man altogether.

That morning we picked the girls up from mom and dads’ together, and after seeing us home safely making sure we were settled, Tobias left saying he’d be back shortly. And he was, he just didn’t come alone. Following him was Dagger and Glock in the clubs van, which was filled with all of his belongings that he’d taken with him when he moved out. Tobias didn’t say a word when he helped the guys unload and start bringing stuff in. He simply grabbed me around the waist, kissed me soundly on the mouth, and gave me a mischievous grin that lit up his whole face. I struggled to see how I could get angry at seeing him so happy, so I decided not to bother. Being angry with him wouldn’t serve any purpose any way, and to be honest, I wanted him here with us, so what did it matter if how it happened?

That was five weeks ago, and aside from the normal demands of motherhood, working at the library part-time, (I had cut my hours back substantially so I could spend more time at home), my family hovering because they knew something was up with me, and a very watchful, furious Priest, everything had been perfect. Well, as close to perfect as you can get with a crazy family like this.

The biggest change over the last five weeks was Tobias stepping down as the clubs First Rider. To say I was shocked would be a massive understatement. When he came home and announced he wouldn’t be leaving us again, other than the regular club runs the guys all did on rotation, I didn’t know what to say. I was over the moon happy he’d have more time at home, more time to spend with me and the girls, but I couldn’t help the frisson of fear that travelled down my spine that one day he’d come to regret handing over his well-deserved position. After reassuring me time and time again that he’d never regret a decision that put him at home with his family, I finally settled into the knowledge I probably had
all
of my husband for the first time since I’d met him.

When I said that was the biggest change in these last weeks, I didn’t say it was the only one. Some of the things that happened weren’t changes so much as they were developments and they weren’t all good, but there was one amazingly bright point that helped to overshadow the darker times.

Joanna Lisa Adams, was born on a bright, cloudless, sunny morning three weeks ago. And she is an adorably cute mirror image of my sister, Priss. Born four weeks early, Joanna didn’t want to wait any longer to meet her slightly insane, but loveable extended family. She decided to come into the world in a way only too befitting for a future MC Princess.

You would think after four children Priss would know what the signs of labor were, but no, not my sister. She overlooked the cramp-like pains she’d been having all morning, forgoing calling her doctor or husband and went about her usual daily routine of racing around after her four boys, getting them ready for school and off to the bus on time. Yep, my sister thought it wiser to have clean floors than worry about the contractions that were getting closer and closer together. It wasn’t until she couldn’t ignore the gush of water dirtying said clean floors before she called someone, and that someone would be me. Thankfully Dakota and Avery were at school, and Nevie with Lexi for the day or I wouldn’t have been able to get to her half as quickly. Oh, believe me I would have gotten there come hell or high water, I just would have been too late.

On my way to her house I called, Ade, the only person I could think of who would be able to handle her one very energetic terror, Jacob, while I got my crazy-ass sister to the hospital where she belonged. I mean, Jesus Christ, who waits until their contractions are four minutes apart and their water breaks to get their ass to a hospital? My ridiculous sister, that’s who.

Barging through the front door I yell,

“Priss, Priss, where the fuck are you?”

Hoping against hope she’s not upstairs, because God knows how the hell I’m going to get her huge pregnant ass down them if she is, I hear her yell back,

“In the kitchen, and watch your mouth Jacob’s awake.”

Storming into the kitchen to see her seated at the counter, cup of what I can only imagine is tea in her hand, I stand frozen gapping at her. If she’s in labor I want one just like it, because you’d never be able to tell she’s only hours off delivering a baby. She’s calm, and cool as a cucumber. Lucky bitch.

“I think when your sister calls and tells you she’s about to give birth to another one of Satan’s minions it’s absolutely acceptable to say fuck. Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s a requirement.”

Priss looks amused and notably doesn’t correct me on my description of her sons, my nephews, probably because she can’t. They are indeed four of the most terrifying children to walk the face of the Earth. Honestly, they’d scare me if I wasn’t related to them they are that bad. The only person that seems to have any control over them is their dad, and that’s only when they feel like handing the reins of leadership over to him.

Let’s put it this way, Bryce, Priss and Tank’s oldest at nine, and Miles their second oldest who’s seven have successfully been banned from half a dozen stores in town, multiple times, and all before either of them were six. The least of which being destruction of property, a nice way of saying they rearranged the shop front mannequins to resemble a couple having ’relations’, removing the sales price tags and putting them on full-priced merchandise, and opening the dressing room door while women, namely well-endowed ones, are changing.

Needless to say, after the first few times I refused to go shopping with her again unless she was flying solo. The guys all thought it was hilarious, probably part of the reason why Bryce and Miles still to this day do it, and Priss became so used to public humiliation at the hands of her children she now just shrugs it off, offering to pay for anything they’ve damaged. Yep, my nephews are definitely Satan’s minions.

“Sure, whatever you say sister dearest. Now, do you think you can help me heft my whale sized self into the car so I can have the latest minion at a hospital instead of in my kitchen? Because seriously, that shit looks like Alien Resurrection if you’ve never looked down there during.”

I laugh. There’s nothing I can do to stop it, and thankfully Priss laughs with me. That is until we hear a gasp from the doorway that has both of us turning around and laughing even harder. The look on Ade’s face is priceless.

“What in the ever-loving-fuck are you two crazy bitches still doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in some sterile, padded room, so that when the devils offspring is born it can be contained?”

See, funny. Her face has a look that’s a mixture of horror, concern, awe, and are you fucking kidding me, and all it serves to do is make us laugh harder. Holding my sides, they hurt that much, I reply,

“Calm your farm, drama queen. We couldn’t go anywhere until you got here anyway. You’re looking after minion four remember?”

“Yep, got it. Now get the hell out of here before all that evil is spawned right here in the damn kitchen. That shit cannot be unseen you know, and I do not need that image in my head if I ever want to get laid again,” she snaps with a visible full-body shudder. She goes on to mutter something about vaginas not being elastic bands, and it not being normal women wanting to put themselves through this shit more than twice.

Giggling at her, Priss stands up saying,

“Jacob’s just had breakfast, he shouldn’t need a snack for about a…”

“Are you for fucking real? Get out of here before I slap your pregnant ass upside the head. I think I can handle one demonic future cult leader for a few hours, or at least I can until someone scarier can come deal with his plans to take over the world. Now, go. Shoo,” Ade barks ushering us out the door.

Giving her a quick squeeze, Priss points to the kitchen counter.

“Keys are there in case you need my truck. Seats are in the back already. Call Hunter would you?” Oh my God. She hasn’t called him yet, and if the filthy look Ade gives her is anything to go by Priss better hope she stays pregnant, or Ade might actually kick her ass.

“You are lucky I love you, because you, Priscilla are a nasty, horrible, awful bitch,” Ade says glaring at her. And she’s not wrong. Tank is going to flip his shit when he finds out his wife is on the way to hospital without telling him herself. To make matters worse, when he finds out she was in labor for hours without calling him he’s going to tan her hide for it. Oh well, all’s fair in love and labor. Sucks to be her.

If all of that wasn’t dramatic enough, I managed to get her in the car and as far as half way through town before having to pull over, outside Rough Shod no less. I called for an ambulance, but seeing as there are only two that service all of Blackwater and Clearwater combined, there was no way it was going to get here before it was too late. To make matters worse, Priss had forgotten her cell phone at home, mine had run flat after my frantic call to 911, and Priss wasn’t letting me leave her side to get help.

Now, on a normal day I’d like to say I’m pretty good under pressure. That day, not so much. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. A huge one. That day I was so far in over my head I didn’t know which way was up. The only thing that rang true was that I needed to make sure my sister and my niece or nephew was safe.

Helping her into the backseat, removing her stretchy yoga pants, and underwear, I almost instantly passed out at the shock of black hair coming out from between her legs. I didn’t have time to process what I was seeing before Priss screamed,

“Oh fuck me, Tilly. I have to push. I have to push, now.”

“No!” I screamed back. “Just, just, um, I don’t know. Can’t you hold it in until the ambulance gets here?”

“Sure, I’ll get right on that while I’m being torn in two by the beasts gargantuan child,” she snarls back barring down.

At this point I’d like to say our regular comedy routine was interrupted by a knight in shining leather, or that reality sunk in and I got my shit together, but alas it wasn’t and I didn’t. Instead we carried right on bitching at each other.

“You do that, and while you’re busy keeping your legs shut till help arrives, I’ll go see if I can find a cork to keep that sucker in there longer.”

Kicking me with her right foot, her left is currently propped up on the passengers front seat, Priss bears down again.

“Shut up, Tilly, and help would you.”

I reach down and pull my sweater from the floor and hang it over the headrest of the back seat ready to wrap baby five up as soon as it arrives. Looking down again I see that that’s going to be any minute, because the baby is from what I can tell, is already crowning.

“Oh, Jesus, Priss. What am I supposed to do?”

Breathing through another contraction before she answers me, Priss looks straight into my eyes.

“You can do this, Tilly. If there’s anyone I’d want with me having my baby like this it would be you. Now, harden the fuck up Princess because you’re going to have to roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty.”

Another wave of pain rolls over her and takes her breath away. So, what in all of my wisdom do I say?

“Um, I don’t have any sleeves.” Well, it’s true. I am wearing a T-shirt after all.

Agitated, exhausted, and slightly panicked Priss replies,

“For the love of God, would you please just shut the hell up and help me get this kid out? I’d like to have a normal sized hoo-ha again one day, and you sitting there letting spawn five stretch that thing out is going to make that impossible. Not to mention, Hunter isn’t going to be impressed you let his favorite toy get ruined. Now, get to work woman.”

Crouching down further, I place my hand gently under the baby’s head and tell her to push. I count to ten slowly, encouraging her as best I can before yelling,

“The head is out. Oh my God, it’s out.” Looking down at the perfect little being in the palm of my hand I focus and use my best commanding voice to say, “One more, Priss. One more push and you’ll be all done. You’re doing so well, honey. I’m so proud of you.”

Keeping the hand supporting the baby’s head where it is, I reach down with my free hand to support the rest of its body as Priss gives her biggest push yet. In a gush of amniotic fluid, and with a high pitched wail from Priss, my newest niece or nephew is born. I make quick work of wrapping the baby in my sweater, placing it on its mothers’ chest, being extra careful not to tug too hard on the umbilical cord that’s still attached.